Chapter 38: Fever in the Mountains

 

Mac woke Thursday as the sun peeked over the ridges to their east. Mountains surrounded the creek bank where they camped. The barren hills held no vegetation bigger than sagebrush. Mac didn’t think they were above the tree line—there simply was not enough water to support trees.

Mac hoped the scouts knew what they were doing. He wished Pershing were scouting, but the captain wouldn’t leave his wife.

Mac heard the thin cry of a newborn. Jonah was awake.

Jenny heaved her awkward bulk out of the wagon. She was no longer the scrawny girl he’d met in Arrow Rock. In two months she would give birth. Anxiety stabbed Mac’s gut. He didn’t want her to suffer, and childbirth was always a risk. Nothing he could do about it.

“Did the baby wake you?”

She nodded, arching and clutching her back as if it hurt. “I should see to the Pershings.”

“I’ll get breakfast.” He made coffee and fried an antelope steak. At least they had fresh meat. Flour and cornmeal were low, and Fort Hall was a good two weeks off, according to Pershing.

“Mrs. Pershing’s better,” Jenny told him when she returned. “But she says she was up cooking by this point after her other births. Traveling must have sapped her strength.”

The wagons climbed out of the creek valley through dry, rough terrain, switchbacking up sage-spotted hillsides. Mac and Abercrombie rode in front watching for stones the scouts had piled. At first it was easy, because they had seen the trail the day before while hunting. By midmorning, however, they passed into new territory.

The company nooned in a saddle between two hills. There was no water, and the teams shifted restlessly in their yokes and harnesses.

“Damn trail’s turning south,” Abercrombie fumed when they resumed their trek. “Don’t those damn scouts know where they’re going? I have half a mind to head north. I would, if Daniel weren’t one of the scouts. I raised him to know what he’s doing.”

Thank heaven for small favors, Mac thought. He didn’t want another argument between Abercrombie and Pershing. With Zeke, Joel, and Daniel gone, he had only Doc to back him if a confrontation arose.

“They’d come tell us if the route weren’t passable,” Mac said.

Abercrombie snorted.

Pershing called a halt at another small creek. They had detoured far south around a high ridge that rose two hundred feet above them. “There’s water here. We’ll stop,” he said.

“It can’t be much past three o’clock,” Abercrombie argued. “We can go another couple of hours.”

“Don’t know where the next water might be,” Pershing said. “We’d best stop.”

Mac rode Valiente to his wagon. While he unyoked the oxen, Jenny headed toward the Pershing wagons. As he finished, she returned looking frightened.

“Mrs. Pershing has a fever,” she said. “Esther sat with her all day.” Jenny wiped a hand across her eyes. “The wagon bounces her poor mama around. It’s hot and miserable, even with the sides open. And the dust. How can she get better if we don’t stop?”

“We have to keep moving,” Mac said. “Everyone’s low on provisions. All some folks have is the meat we can kill.”

Daniel rode into camp at dusk. Esther ran into his arms sobbing, “Ma’s bad off.”

“Why we heading so far south, son?” Abercrombie yelled.

“Trail goes west up this creek valley a ways. It’s purty flat,” Daniel said. “Then there’s another detour south around a high ridge. Then mostly west again. We’ve tried not to go out of our way, but the land’s wretched. Little water. Mostly bare rock, or loose dirt and sage. We need to get through it as quick as we can.”

“But Ma!” Esther said.

“Ain’t no help for it, honey,” Daniel said. “We can’t stop.”

Jenny, Mrs. Tuller and Hatty Tanner arranged to relieve Esther through the night with Mrs. Pershing. “You take the first shift, Jenny,” Mrs. Tuller said. “Then you can get some sleep yourself. We put Jonah with Mrs. Dempsey again.”

After Jenny left, Mac sat beside his campfire and wrote

 

July 22, 1847. Another hot day through dry land. Teams are skittish on the sparse grazing. Scouts report the trail ahead is rougher yet.

Mac roused when Jenny returned to the wagon around midnight. “How’s Mrs. Pershing?” he asked.

“Very ill.” Jenny sounded weary. “Fever’s high. As bad as yours with cholera.”

Before dawn Mac awoke again to find Daniel saddling a horse. Esther stood beside him weeping.

“How’s your mother?” Mac asked.

Esther shook her head, her lips pursed.

“I’m going to find Zeke and Joel, send them back,” Daniel said. He galloped up the valley.

The Pershing wagons led the company through the morning, so Mrs. Pershing would be spared as much dust as possible. The captain drove, while Mrs. Tuller sat in back with his wife.

Mac rode Valiente next to Pershing as they left camp. “You need anything, Captain?” Mac asked.

“You ride with Abercrombie,” Pershing said. “We’ll be fine.”

As Daniel had said, the initial path up the creek bed was not hard. Red cliffs rose all around them, but the valley was wide and not too steep. They splashed back and forth across a shallow, narrow stream.

After the noon break the trail left the creek and climbed south along a rocky crest. Jenny checked on Mrs. Pershing and reported to Mac, “Her fever’s still high. Can you stay with our wagon? I want to sit with her a spell.”

Mac nodded. “Abercrombie can watch for the scouts’ markers. What’s Doc say?”

Jenny shrugged. “He just shakes his head.”

Mac’s wagon jerked along behind the Pershing wagons. Around three o’clock, the captain jumped off the wagon bench, waved his hat, and shouted, “Hold up! We’re stopping.”

Mac slowed his wagon to a halt and walked over to the captain. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s having a seizure.” Pershing called for Doc to come.

Doc raced over and climbed into the wagon.

Abercrombie rode back. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked.

“Seizure,” Mac said.

Abercrombie swore, but didn’t say anything more.

After a short while, Doc climbed out of the Pershing wagon and walked back to Mac. “Seizure stopped. Cooled her down with water.” He looked at the harsh landscape around them. “We can’t camp here, so let’s go on. But we should halt as soon as we find a place.”

Jenny followed Doc out of the Pershing wagon, her face ashen. Mac convinced her to drive their wagon. “I’ll ride with Abercrombie.”

As they rode off, Abercrombie asked, “Is she bad off?”

“Sounds like it,” Mac said.

The two men rode in silence. “Man depends on his wife, don’t he?” Abercrombie said sometime later.

Mac wasn’t sure if Abercrombie was talking about Captain Pershing or himself or men in general. “That’s right,” he said.

“We come off this ridge in a little bit to another creek. We can stop there.” Abercrombie cleared his throat and was silent again until they reached the creek.